The Mad Fate of Skyrim
by Baleygr
Summary: The one who was to become the Dragonborn was killed by bandits before she could become the Dragonborn. Due to how she was killed, her soul ends up on the Shivering Isles, the Home of Sheogorath, the former Champion of Cyrodiil. When he discover who and what she is, he makes a mad gamble. A crossover between Oblivion and Skyrim, in which a hero-turned-god, re-discovers his humanity.
1. Chapter 1

**Introduction**

 **This will be the first fanfic I've tried to write, so please, any feedback would be nice. I do NOT own the characters or events depicted in this story, they are all owned by Bethesda.**

This story will be a crossover between Oblivion and Skyrim, in which the Champion of Cyrodiil, later Sheogorath, the Daedric Prince of Madness, by a strange twist of fate becomes the Dragonborn, and the adventures that follows.

I will try and keep to the lore as faithfully as I can, but some things will change, like how the Dragonborn will be immune to things connected to other Daedric Princes. This means he will not be able to become a werewolf or vampire, since were-creatures belong to Hircine and vampires' belong to Molag Bal. This will change how the Companion storyline plays out, as well as the Dawnguard part. There will be other changes to the different factions and events that happens, based on which faction I joined and which quests I did in Oblivion.

This story will (hopefully) contain adventure, comedy and romance. Now, with the introduction finished, let's get on with the story.

 **Prologue**

 **S** itting on his throne in the capital of the Shivering Isles, Sheogorath was watching the dance two of his subjects were performing for him for the 143rd time that week (since it's well known that the definition of madness is to do the same thing again and again, expecting different results) when the melancholy hit him.

Signaling to his Chamberlain, Haskill, to clear out the throne-room, Sheogorath sank back in his throne and let his mind wander. He thought back on his days as a mortal, and the events which led up to him becoming a god.

How he, a Nord fleeing from a vengeful Jarl, had been arrested when he had reached the Imperial City and been thrown into jail. How he, by chance, had been put in the one cell from which a hidden passage, used by Emperors to escape the city, had been built, and through which the late Emperor Uriel Septim VII tried to flee when the Mythic Dawn sent its assassins after him and his sons.

How the Emperor had told him he was needed, and when the assassins had them trapped, had given him the Amulet of Kings and told him to deliver it to Jauffre, the Grandmaster of the Blades, and to help him find Martin, the last of the Septim line.

He and Martin had become friends after he saved him from the ruined city of Kvatch, earning the title "Hero of Kvatch" in the progress. Returning to Jauffre, they had found him under attack from the Mythic Dawn and the Amulet of Kings gone.

During the search for the Amulet, he had ended up in control of almost all major factions and the power those held, be it as a Champion of the Fighters Guild, the Arch-Mage of the Mages Guild, the Crusader of the Knights of the Nine or the Listener of the Dark Brotherhood.

When they at last found the Amulet, it was in the hands of Mankar Camoran, the leader of the Mythic Dawn. Having followed Mankar Camoran to his "Paradise", he had killed him and returned with the Amulet to his friend. Together with the Blades, they had traveled to the Imperial City to make Martin the Emperor, and to use the Amulet to end the Oblivion Crisis. But while in the city, and before they could use the Amulet, Mehrunes Dagon himself attacked the city, manifesting in physical form outside the Temple of the One. Fighting their way to the Temple, he and Martin succeeded in entering it. Inside, Martin made the ultimate sacrifice, shattering the Amulet and becoming the Avatar of Akatosh. He was able to defeat Mehrunes Dagon, throwing him back into Oblivion, but lost his life in the process, as once Dagon was gone, he turned into a statue.

For his services, the man who was to become Sheogorath was named the Champion of Cyrodiil. For the next couple of years, he wandered Cyrodiil, looking for a reason to stay, and helping those in need during that time. But one day, he heard a rumor which said that a Oblivion Gate had opened outside the city of Bravil. When he reached the Gate, he found it leading to the Shivering Isles, the Daedric Prince Sheogoraths realm, and that Sheogorath was in need of a champion...

Sheogorath sighed. To think that 200 years had already passed since he stepped through that Gate as a mortal, only to end up a god, and the God of Madness at that!

Suddenly he felt a shift in the fabric of reality, a shift not only affecting the Planes of Oblivion, but Nirn and the worlds beyond the Planes too! He felt it to his very core, something that shouldn't have happened had just happened. Feeling a new arrival on his isles, he immediately made his way to that presence.

In the Fringe, he found a young woman lying on the ground, her spirit slowly fading away. Feeling drawn to the woman, Sheogorath touched her mind and learned who, and what, she was. Her name was Freiya, 16 years old and a child of Skyrim. And the one destined to become the last Dragonborn. But during a trip between Whiterun and Ivarstead, she had been captured by a group of bandits, and had been tortured and abused for weeks before her mind broke and they killed her, sending her crazed spirit to the Shivering Isles, long before she could become the one she was destined to be.

Trying to learn more about her, he searched her mind further back, only to discover a legend told in her family, a legend he knew all to well...

…...

 _3E 432_

 _"I'll only be gone for a few moons, Eydis", the young man said to the beautiful young woman next to him. "My father is planing a trip to Cyrodiil, and he wants me to be his guard, so that he can save some gold."_

 _"I know, Fengir, but I fear my Father is planing to have me married to another, so that he can gain more influence over the moot", she answered him._

 _"If so, my love, let me give you a memory to hold on to while I'm away", Fengir said, taking Eydis in his arms, laying her down and kissing her lovingly. She wrapped her arms around him, and that night, the two of them became one._

 _When he returned to Whiterun 3 moons later, he was taken by the city guards and brought before the Jarl. The Jarl was furious. Eydis had become pregnant and could therefore no longer be used a a pawn by him to gain more influence. The Jarl ordered the guards to take Fengir out of the city and hang him like a slave, to deny him entrance to Sovngard, into which only those who have died in battle or by a weapon can enter._

 _When the guard led him out of the city, Fengir had used all of his strength to break free and flee from the guards. He stayed in the wilderness until he was sure he had crossed the border to Cyrodiil, then making his way to the Imperial City, only to learn that the Jarl had made him a wanted man in the entire Empire..._

…...

Sheogorath blinked away the tears when he learned what had happened to Eydis. After he fled, she had traveled to Riften, seeking sanctuary from her father in the Temple of Mara. There, she gave birth to a son, which was raised by her and the priests and priestesses of Mara.

When the stories of the Champion of Cyrodiil reached Skyrim, Eydis had known in her heart that the Champion was her lost love. A few years passed, then came the news that the Champion was missing after he had stepped through an Oblivion Gate outside Bravil. The gate had been closed, but the Champion hadn't returned. Eydis mourned her loss, but her and Fengirs son always brought a smile to her face.

In 4E 22, her father, the Jarl of Whiterun died, and a new Jarl was chosen. Eydis decided to return to her childhoods home, bringing with her her son and his wife.

When she returned to Whiterun, the new Jarl first wanted her to live up in Dragonsreach, but she refused, claiming it held to many painful memories. Instead, she asked for a house in which she and her sons family could live, and would be theirs for all time. The Jarl agreed, and gave them a house. Eydis lived in that house until she died in 4E 45. On her deathbed, she told her son and his children the truth about their origin, and her love for a merchants son, named Fengir. She made them promise that never let the house they lived in leave their family.

That house later became known as Breezehome, and Eydis descendants continued to live there to this day, its current inhabitants being Freiyas parents.

Having learned that the young woman was his mortal selfs descendant, Sheogorath lifted her gently from the ground and returned to his palace with her. There, he set about trying to find away to save her dying soul, not only due to her being his family, but also because he knew the prophesy about Alduins return, and the need of a Dragonborn.

For if Alduin were to be allowed to destroy Nirn, the Planes of Oblivion would be next in line, since they were bound to Nirn, the Aedra and the Daedra being originally the same beings until the creation of Nirn divided them.

Days went by without him noticing it, while he time and time again failed to find a way to stop the death of Freiyas soul. It was then he came up with a plan, a plan so insane, that if anyone else, Aedra or Daedra, would try it, they would all fail. But insanity has no bounds, and as the God of Insanity, Sheogorath didn't fear failure. First, he used his daedric powers to remove the Dragonborn part of Freiyas soul, then he _split_ himself in two, one part mostly human and one part mostly daedra. His human half absorbed the Dragonborn essence, while his daedric half gave just enough power to Freiyas soul for it to stabilize. The rest of his powers were split evenly between his human and his daedric half's.

When he was finished, the now two parts of Sheogorath called for Haskill, explaining to him what he planned to do. The human half would return to Nirn, to fulfill the prophesy of the Dragonborn, while the daedric half would stay on the Shivering Isles, stabilizing the realm and Freiyas soul. Once the human half had left the Shivering Isles, he would no longer know what the other half was doing. They would be, for all intents and purposes, be two different entities, instead of two half of one entity.

The human half, from now on called Fengir, donned some leather armour and a sword, before he opened up a portal to a glade not far from the Cyrodillian border to Skyrim. When the portal closed, Fengir took a deep breath and smiled. It felt good to be back o Nirn again. Casting an eye on the sun for orientation, Fengir started walking towards the border. For the first time in 200 years, he was coming home.

 **So, there you have the back story. I hope you who reads it, like it. Please rate and review. Chapter 1 will, just like the game, begin in Helgen.**

 **I do not know when it will be finished, but I will try to add a new chapter a least every third week.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: The character, places and events depicted in this story, are all owned by Bethesda. I only own the idea behind the story.**

 **Chapter 2**

 **T** he rocking and creaking of the wagon awoke Fengir. He had a splitting headache, and for a moment, he couldn't remember where he was. But as his head cleared, he remembered.

He had just crossed the border to Skyrim, when he met a group of Aldmer. Justiciars, he believed they called themselves. They had started to question him, demanding to know who he was, what his business in Skyrim was, and if he was a worshiper of Talos.

Everything went well, that is, until one of the Thalmor saw that he was wearing an Elven shortsword. Apparently, it was forbidden for any non-mer to own an Elven weapon, so when they drew their weapons, he decided to leave.

Sure, he could kill them all in a matter of seconds, but such a display of power were sure to attract unwanted attention, and while a slaughter is fun, he'd prefer to celebrate his return to Skyrim with some cheese. As they slowly advanced towards him, he smiled at them and then ran into the woods. It all went very well, until he accidentally stumbled into the aftermath of a skirmish between the local branch of the Imperial Legion and a group of Nords wearing blue armour. As he came crashing out of the forest, the Legion soldiers closest to him had drawn their weapons and surrounded him.

Before he'd had a chance to explain himself, he'd felt a sharp pain in the back of his head, before the world turned black.

Chuckling to himself, Fengir couldn't help to see the similarities between his current situation and how his first adventure began 200 years earlier. As he sat up straight and opened his eyes, he heard a voice.

"Ah, you are finally awake!"

Looking around, Fengir located the one who had spoken to him.

"You came from the border, right? Ran right into that imperial ambush, just like us, and that thief over there."

The soldier who had spoken indicated towards another man, sitting next to him. The man threw the soldier a dirty look.

"Damn you, stormcloaks. Skyrim was fine until you came along. The Empire was nice and lazy. If they hadn't been for you, I could've stolen that horse and been halfway to Hammerfell."

He then turned towards Fengir.

"You there, you and me, we shouldn't be here. It's these stormcloaks the empire wants"

"We're all brothers and sisters in binds now, thief."

Getting irritated, the driver looked back with a "Shut up back there".

Finding the situation immensely funny, Fengir let out a short laugh, drawing a confused look from the driver and his fellow passengers. Shaking his head, the thief turns his gaze towards the Nord sitting next to Fengir.

"What's wrong with him, huh?"

"Watch your tung! You're speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak, the true High King!"

"Ulfric... The Jarl of Windhelm?! You're the leader of the rebellion, but if they've captured you... Oh, gods! Were are they taking us?!"

"I don't know where we're going, but Sovngarde awaits."

"No... This can't be happening, this isn't happening!"

"Hey... What village are you from, horsethief?"

"Why do you care?"

"A Nords last thoughts should be of his home."

"Rorikstead... I'm from Rorikstead."

The conversation was then interrupted by one of the guards.

"General Tullius, sire! The headsman is waiting!"

"Good, let's get this over with", answered the man riding in front of the column, before riding through the village gates.

"Shor, Mara, Dibella, Kynareth, Akatosh. Divines! Please, help me."

With a raised eyebrow, Fengir turned towards the thief, who had turned white and was now praying to all the gods he new. Looking away, the soldier spat in disgust, before throwing a glance at the general.

"Look at him. General Tullius, the military governor. And it seems that the Thalmor are with him. Damned elves, I bet they had something to do with this."

At those words, Fengir look over towards the general, and saw an Aldmer woman sitting on a horse next to him. She had an air of contempt around her, as if everyone else was beneath her. Fengir despised her after just one look, so he decided that he would cause as much mischief as possible for these 'Thalmor' during his stay in Skyrim.

As the wagons turned away from the gate, the soldier spoke again.

"This is Helgen. I used to be sweet on a girl from here. Wonder if Vilod is still making that mead with Juniper berries mixed in... Heh, funny. When I was a boy, these imperial walls and towers used to make me feel safe."

As they came around the main keep, Fengir could hear the comments of the onlookers. A child asked what was going on, to which his father told him to go back inside. Approaching a wall, an officer told the imperial soldiers to get the prisoners of the wagons. Sensing the wagon coming to a stop, the thief looked up with a scared look on his face.

"Why are we stopping?"

The soldier smirked before answering.

"Why do you think? It's the end of the line."

When the wagon had stopped, the soldier turned to Fengir.

"Let's go. Shouldn't keep the guards waiting for us."

"No, wait! We're not rebels!"

The thief was fast loosing his composure.

"Were's your courage, thief?"

"You've got to tell them, we weren't with you, this is a mistake!"

Jumping off the wagon, Fengir could only shake his head and smile at the thief, as he seemed to be only moments from pissing himself in fear. After landing on the ground, Fengir straighten his back as the female officer started barking orders.

"Step towards the block as we call your name! One a time!"

Sighing, the soldier mumbled to himself.

"The empire loves their damned lists."

One of the imperial soldiers steps forward, holding a ledger. Looking down into it, he calls out;

"Ulfric Stormcloak, Jarl of Windhelm."

As the Jarl goes towards the block, the soldier addresses him.

"It's been a honor, Jarl Ulfric."

The next name to be called is Ralof of Riverwood, to which the soldier leaves the line to go towards the block.

"Lokir of Rorikstead."

That name causes the thief to panic.

"No! I'm not a rebel! You can't do this!"

Lokir takes of running, shouting that they're not gonna catch him. And, well, he's right. But the officer doesn't need to catch him. She just orders the archers on the walls to shoot him. Lokir only gets 50 feet, before an arrow takes him in the back, killing him instantly.

"Anyone else feel like running?"

The officer glares angrily at Fengir and the few prisoners who hasn't been called to the block yet. The soldier with the ledger turns towards Fengir, looks down into it and scowls before looking back up and ask confused; "Who... are you?"

Looking up from the ledger, Hadvar addressed the Nord standing in front of him. He looked like most Nords, with shoulder-length, light hair, and a slight beard. He was muscular built, with a broad chest and with scars from weapons crossing his arms. He stood some 6 feet tall and was dressed in leather armour.

But his face... Hadvar felt a slight chill as he looked into the Nords eyes. It was as if a fire burned deep inside them, giving them an almost fire-orange look. But what really made this Nord look almost daedric was his smile, as his mouth was locked in a half-smile, both joyous and sinister at the same time. No sane person should have that look when faced with his own execution.

"Oh, the name's Fengir."

Shaking his head to gather his thoughts, Hadvar looks down into the ledger again. There is no-one named Fengir listed there.

"Fengir, you say? By your looks and your name, I would say you're a Nord, but yours is an accent I've never heard before... Where are you from?"

"I was born in Whiterun, but I've been all over Tamriel for some years now. But I got bored, so I decided to return home for a while."

"You've chosen a bad time to return to Skyrim, kinsman."

"Oh, I don't know about that. I think it's the right time, since there are so many things to do here now."

The prisoner called Fengir breaks into a large grin, which makes Hadvar even more nervous. Turning to his commanding officer, he asks her.

"Captain, what shall we do? He's not on the list."

Having observed the entire exchange, the Captain is just as unnerved by Fengir as Hadvar is, so she just shakes her head.

"Forget the list. He goes to the block."

"By your orders Captain."

Turning back to Fengir, Hadvar looks at him apologetically.

"I'm sorry. At least you'll die here, in your homeland."

"Don't worry, friend. I have a feeling I won't die for a long time yet."

Fengir gives Hadvar a last smile before making his way over to the group of prisoners gathered in front of the headsman's' block, leaving Hadvar who's looking even more unnerved after hearing that.

As he joined the other prisoners, General Tullius walked up to Ulfric and began to speak.

"Ulfric Stormcloak. Some here in Helgen calls you a hero, but a her doesn't use a power like the Voice to murder his king and usurp his throne. You started this war. Plunged Skyrim into chaos, and now the Empire's gonna put you down, and restore the peace!"

As the general finished his speech, Fengir could hear the roars of a dragon in the distance. Smiling even wider, he could feel the threads of fate start to move as the prophecy of the Last Dragonborn was starting to unfurl. One of the guards seemed to have heard it as well, but when he asked what it was, no-one answered.

Returning to his place, General Tullius ordered the executions to begin. The female captain saluted and told the local priestess to give them their last rites. Turning her gaze and hands towards the sky, she began.

"As we commend your souls to Aetherius, blessings of the Eight Divines upon you..."

"For the love of Talos, shut up, and let's get this over with!"

A prisoner to the right of Fengir had become impatient, and interrupted the priestess as he walked over to the block.

"...As you wish."

The priestess simply shook her head and stepped back.

Standing in front of the executioner, the prisoner mocked the Imperials, claiming he didn't have all morning and that they should hurry up. The female captain walked up behind him and put her foot on his back, forcing him to kneel down and put his head on the block. Uttering his final words, the prisoner looked up on the executioner in defiance.

"My ancestors are smiling on me, imperials. Can you say the same?"

As the ax fell, decapitating the man, Fengir could hear curses and insults being thrown at both the prisoners and the imperials from the onlookers. After moving the body out of the way, the captain turned towards the prisoners and pointed on Fengir.

"Next, the Nord in the unmarked armour!"

As she said that, Fengir could once again hear the dragons roar as it came closer. And this time, most of the people could hear it too. As they looked around, trying to determine what had made that sound, there was a brief moment of confusion, before the captain spoke again.

"I said, the next prisoner!"

Walking towards the captain, Fengir smiled when he saw the black dragon appear from behind the mountains. The captain seemed to mistake his smile for something else, and looked a bit angry when she pushed him down on the block. As his head touched the block, the dragons roar could be heard for a third time. This time, everyone could hear it and the Legionnaires drew their weapons as they scanned the sky. As the executioner raised his ax, the dragon landed on the keep, causing him to turn around and drop it.

" **Zu'u lost daal! Krumah, joor, ahrk motaas, fah Zu'u los Alduin!"***

As the Voice of the dragon shook the earth, Fengir rose to his feet and removed his bonds. The dragon, who he now knew was Alduin, the World-Eater, Shouted again, causing a rain of fireballs to fall from the skies. Feeling the Dragon Essence inside him stir, Fengir began to laugh, standing in the midst of dying men and burning buildings, while chaos spread through Helgen. A soldier standing nearby stared at him in terror, before a fireball engulfed him, causing him to run away in blind panic as the fire slowly killed him. After a few moments, Fengir noticed that he was alone on the courtyard, the prisoners and soldiers having fled in different directions.

Drawing upon his almost infinite supply of magicka, Fengir created a shield around himself before he slowly began walking towards the gates of Helgen. As he walked, he began to whistle a happy tune to himself, not stopping, even when his shield were hit by the fireballs. While passing a house, he saw an Imperial soldier, weapon drawn, gazing up into the sky, while a man and a child huddled behind him. Recognizing the soldier as the one who had spoken to him after he'd jumped off the wagon, Fengir turned and walked towards them.

"Now that was an interesting turn of events, wouldn't you say?"

His words cause the three persons in front of him to jump. The soldier quickly turned towards him, raising his sword, before he recognized Fengir.

"You?! How... How are you still alive?! This damned fire-rain killed almost everyone at the courtyard, yet you stand there as if nothing has happened! What kind of creature are you..."

The soldier took a step back from Fengir, fear, confusion and chock glinting in his eyes.

"Now, now, don't be rude. I simply used a magic shield to stop the fireballs from hitting me. Oh, and by the way, since you know my name, how about I get to know yours, eh?"

"...Hadvar. My name's Hadvar."

"Hadvar... Now, as much as I would enjoy standing here and chat all day, I think your friends would prefer to get to safety. So how about we leave?"

Looking over his shoulder, Hadvar saw that the man was holding the child close, which was crying and shaking in fear. Turning back to Fengir, he nodded.

Giving them a bright smile, Fengir turned around and waved them on.

"Now, now, come along. You'll feel better once we're out of here. And don't worry, you wont be hit by the fireballs, I've made sure of that."

Guiding the three survivors out of Helgen, Fengir walked towards the road to Riverwood, humming to himself. Once they'd reached the road, he turned towards Hadvar.

"There, that wasn't so bad, was it?"

Hadvar simply shook his head, before turning towards the man and the boy to check up on them. Turning back to Fengir, he slowly began to relax.

"Thank you. If you hadn't come, we wouldn't have been able to leave Helgen alive. If you don't mind, could you do me one last favor? I need to make sure these two are safe before I do anything else, so if you could, could you warn Riverwood and Jarl Balgruuf in Whiterun about the dragon? My uncle is the blacksmith in Riverwood, so if you tell him I sent you, he will help you any way he can."

"Hmm... Well, since I'm on my way to Whiterun anyway, sure, I can do that."

"Thank you. May the gods bless you."

Laughing at the thought of the Aedra blessing a Daedric Prince, Fengir turned around and waved his goodbye as he walked towards Riverwood.

After maybe 30 minutes of walk he heard a voice.

"Halt! Not a step closer, or I'll paint my sword with your blood!"

Looking up, he saw a female bandit standing not 30 feet away, holding an iron greatsword. Giving the bandit an evil smile, he took another step closer as he spoke.

"Now, I'm in a good mood right now, so I'll give you two option. Either you run away and stop being a bandit, or I'll rip out your intestines and strangle you with them!"

His mad smile clearly caused the bandit to stop and think, but greed won over her survival instinct.

"Ha! Tough words for a man without weapons!"

She lifted her sword and began to charge. Fengir just shook his head and paralyzed her with a spell. As she fell to the ground, mid-step, he walked up to her and stared down into her eyes.

"My dear, if you had listened to me, you could have lived a long and happy life, but you had to be greedy, didn't you? But, as I'm in a good mood, I'm going to be generous today and kill you quickly."

He smiled as he saw fear rise in her eyes. Gently, he took her head and kissed her forehead, before with a savage twist, breaking her neck, his daedric strength almost removing it from her body.

After searching her body and taking the gold she had had, he stood up and looked around.

" _HASKILL!_ " he shouted.

A thin, breton man appeard next to him.

"You called, my lord?"

"Ah, there you are. I seem to have lost my sword, so if you could run along and get me my Akaviri blade, it would be good."

"Certainly, my lord. Anything else?"

"Yes, how is Freiyas soul fairing?"

"It's getting more and more stable, but it will take at least a mortal year before it is stable enough to survive on its own, and even longer before it can be sent to its rightful place."

"Good, good. Now go and get my sword, I have a dragon to slay."

"Of course, my lord."

Haskill disappeared for a few minutes, before returning with the blade Fengir had been given when he had joined the Blades after saving Martin Septim from the ruins of Kvatch. Strapping the blade to his side, he continued his walk towards Riverwood.

 ***Zu'u lost daal! Krumah, joor, ahrk motaas, fah Zu'u los Alduin!**

 **Means "I have returned! Kneel, mortals, and cower, for I am Alduin!**

 **I hope you people like this chapter. In the next chapter, Fengir will reach Riverwood, meet Delphine, Aela and Farkas, and explore Bleak Falls Barrow, among other things.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I do not own the character, places or events depicted in this story. I only own the idea behind it and Fengir, everything else is owned by Bethesda**

 **Chapter 3**

 **A** fter leaving Haskill, Fengir walked for about three hours, before he came to a stream at the foot of a mountain. The road continued to the right, following the stream. From further down the stream, he could hear the sound of a sawmill and the ringing of metal hitting metal, most likely a blacksmiths hammer hitting the anvil. Leaving the road, he went down to the stream. Kneeling down, he dipped his hand into it, feeling the pure waters of his homeland on his skin. Smiling, he looked up on the mountain and the ruin which had scared him and many others around Whiterun when they were children.

He could still remember the stories his mother used to tell him at bedtime, before she passed away when he was ten. At the though of his mother, he felt the smile leave his face and sorrow take its place. As a strong nord woman, his mother would have been welcomed into Sovngarde when she died, as would his father. But he, now a Daedric Prince, was denied entry if he were to die, making it impossible for him to meet them in the afterlife.

Ah, well, it was 200 years to late for regrets, now. Besides, if all went as planned, and he could stop Alduin, maybe he could speak to the Aedra and be allowed to visit Sovngarde from time to time. Shaking his head, he decided that such wistful thoughts would do him no good, and with a last glance towards the ruins known as Bleak Falls Barrow, he rose to his feet and returned to the road.

After following the road for another ten minutes, he reached the entrance to Riverwood. It was a small settlement, with maybe ten families living there at most. It also looked somewhat young, and Fengir thought it must have been built within the last 50-100 years. As he walked past the guards at the entrance, he was somewhat confused at how peaceful Riverwood was. After all, it hadn't been that long since Helgen had been destroyed, and surely, he couldn't be the first one to get there?

As he passed the first house, he heard an old woman claim she saw a dragon, but her son simply said that she had dreamt it all. He continued on his way towards the blacksmith, who was sharpening a sword on the grindstone, but looked up as he reached the smithy.

"Ain't everyday we get visitors in Riverwood", he said with a smile and nodded in greetings. "You need anything? By Ysmir, if it's simple and strong, I can forge it."

"Well, that depends. You have a nephew named Hadvar?"

"That I have. Why? Has something happened to him?"

"Well, yes, but don't worry, he's still alive. And I think he'll come by here in a day or so, as soon as he's made sure the survivors are safe."

"Survivors? What has happened? Tell me!"

The man rises up and takes a step towards Fengir, a mixture of fear and relief in his eyes. Fear for what has happened, and relief for knowing Hadvar was safe.

"Now, now, don't be hasty. Helgen has only been destroyed by a dragon, it's nothing serious."

The man stops and stares at him.

"A dragon? Shor's bones, have you been drinking, man?!"

"I assure you, I'm as sober as can be", Fengir said, looking insulted. "The empire was about execute this rebel... Ulfric, I believe his name was, when a dragon came and burned the whole place down. I helped Hadvar and two locals out of Helgen, and he asked me to come here and warn you, before going to Whiterun and warn the Jarl. And now that I'm done here, I bid you a good day!"

With those words, Fengir turned to leave, but was stopped by the man.

"Wait!" Fengir turned back towards the man. "If what you say are true, then I own you a debt of gratitude for saving my nephew, and no true Nord would ever shrink from a debt. Please, if there is anything I can do, tell me."

"Well, I could use a bow and some arrows if you have any. Those dragons can fly, so I will need a weapon that can hit them."

The man nods, and walks over to a chest standing in the corner of the smithy. From it he takes an Iron bow and a quiver of iron arrows.

"Here, take these. If what you've said is true, then this is nothing compared to what I owe you, but know this; if Hadvar comes here and don't confirm your story, you will be a wanted man in this Hold, and you'll end up in the Jarls dungeons."

Taking the bow and arrows, Fengir smiles at this. "Oh, don't worry, I never lie. I may talk a lot on nonsense, but I never lie."

Waving goodbye at the blacksmith, Fengir went across the street to the local traders, Riverwood Traders. Stepping inside, he came upon a young woman arguing with a man.

"Well, one of us have to do something!" The young woman was staring angry at the man.

"I said no! No adventures, no theatrics, no thief-chasing!"

"Well what are you going to do then,huh? Let's hear it!"

"We are done talking about this." The man turns towards the door Fengir just stepped through. At the sight of Fengir, the scowl on the mans face disappear. "Oh, a customer. Sorry you had to hear that."

As the Fengir approach the man, the young woman goes to the other end of the small trader. When he reaches the counter, the man says apologetically. "I don't know what you overheard, but the Riverwood Trader is still open. Feel free to shop."

So that not to seem rude, Fengir buys a few potions before speaking to the man.

"Based on that argument, something must have happened. Mind if I ask you what?"

The man looks a bit miserable before he answers. "Yes, we did have a bit of a... break-in. But we still have plenty to sell. Robbers were only after one thing. An ornament, solid gold. In the shape of a dragon's claw."

"A dragon's claw, you said? Interesting... I have a bit of a fascination with dragons, so if you would allow me to study it for a bit, I could return it to you."

"You could? We would be grateful if you could get the claw back. I even have some extra coins from my last shipment, they're yours if you bring back my claw."

"It's a deal then! Oh, and by the way, do you know were the robbers went?"

"Yes. They were last seen going towards Bleak Falls Barrow, so if you hurry, they may still be up there."

"Well, then! I'll be back with with the claw come morning! Farewell!" Leaving the Riverwood Trader, Fengir felt a smile grow on his face. Finally! A chance to let loose and be an adventurer again! These years as Sheogorath had been fun, but he missed the simple joys of an adventurer. Delving into ruins, finding lost treasures, helping people and gaining fame, and to begin with Bleak Falls Barrow. He had often wondered how the ruin looked inside while he was still living in Whiterun, and now he would be able to find out.

Almost laughing out loud, he left Riverwood the opposite way he came in, and crossed the stream on a stone bridge, before turning left and beginning the ascent of the mountain towards the ruins. After about an hour of scaling the mountain, he came across an old, ruined watchtower, in which a group of bandits had made themselves comfortable. As he came closer, the bandit on guard called out, telling him not to come closer. Knowing that if he were to reach Bleak Falls Barrow, he had to pass the watchtower, but the bandits would most likely not allow that, so he drew his bow and put an arrow on the string. This didn't go unnoticed by the bandit, and as the bandit drew his greatsword and called in to his friends, Fengir took aim. When the bandit started to charge towards him, he let the arrow fly, hitting the bandit in the shoulder, destroying the joint. Dropping the sword and falling to his knees in pain, the bandit didn't even notice what Fengir was doing, until the next arrow took him right in the head, killing him instantly.

Watching the bandit drop, Fengir smiled, when he suddenly felt a sharp pain in his leg. Looking down, he saw an arrow sticking out of his thigh. Looking back up, he was almost hit by another arrow, and he noticed that the first bandits friends had come out and were now shooting at him. Swearing in every language he knew, he summoned a Flesh Atronach to take care of the archers while he removed the arrow from his leg and healed the wound with a healing spell.

The terrified screams of the bandits echoed down the mountain as the Atronach made short work of them. The first bandit didn't even have time to react, when the Atronach attacked, and was knocked to the ground, dropping his weapon. Before he could draw his sword, the Atronach reached down and grabbed him by the throat, strangling him before ripping his arm off. Not being able to scream in pain, the eyes of the bandit almost popped out of his head, before the Atronach ripped it from his shoulders. Tossing the corpse away, the Atronach turned towards the last bandit, which had been firing arrows into it while it killed her friend. Dropping her bow, she drew her sword and attacked the Atronach in desperation, hopping to kill it before it killed her. Ignoring her desperate attacks, the Atronach slowly walked closer to her, and in a last desperate attempt to kill it, she stabbed her sword right through the spot its heart should have been, had the Atronach had one. Now close enough, the Atronach wrapped its arms around the bandit and squeezed her hard. Her screams of pain didn't last long, as the vice-like embrace of the Atronach forced the air from her lungs, and stopped her from drawing another breath. Within a minute, she was dead, her sternum and ribs crushed and her spine broken. As the last life fled her body, the Atronach disappeared, dropping her body on the ground.

Still cursing, Fengir went up to the corpses and began looting them, grabbing all the gold they had and as many arrows he could carry. Then he paused, realizing what he had done. The Flesh Atronach was an Atronach only those chosen by him could summon, which gave the spell an unique resonance which other Daedra and mortals strong in Conjuring could sense. If he had been discovered, it would put his plans in jeopardy and even cause the destruction of Nirn if the wrong person noticed. Stretching his senses out over Skyrim, he tried to sense if anyone had noticed the spell. He couldn't feel anything which could indicate that he had been noticed. Sighing in relief, he decided that he shouldn't summon another Flesh Atronach, unless he had taken precautions to make sure no-one would notice.

Turning away from the slaughtered bandits, he continued up the mountain. The sun was setting when he reached the last ascent towards Bleak Falls Barrow, and the wind had started to blow harder, carrying a smell of snow with it. Looking up on the ruin, he could see movements on the approach to the doors. Seeing a bandit stepping out onto the stairs which leads up to the entrance, Fengir smiles to himself. The bandits are still there, and with the sun setting and a blizzard on the way, he had everything he needed to make short work of the guards. Since coming back to Nirn, he had kept his daedric powers suppressed, so to not alter the reality around him, as he did on the Shivering Isles. But now, he slowly released some of those powers, in order to hasten the arrival of the blizzard. Waiting for the sun to set and the blizzard to arrive, he sat down behind a rock and took a piece of cheese from his backpack and started to eat, feeling hungry after having walked and fought for a couple of hours. Within half an hour, the sky had been covered in clouds, and the wind had increased in intensity. A few minutes later, the snow began to fall, and Fengir rose to his feet in the darkness, whistling to himself as he made his way up the stairs to the entrance. Stepping up to the doors, he opened them and slipped inside, leaving the guards none the wiser in the blizzard.

The doors led to a large, open room, filled with broken ornaments and dust. In the far end of the room, he could see a campsite in which a fire was lit. Two bandits stood on the far side and talked about something. Sneaking closer, he soon came within earshot of the bandits, and smiled when he heard what they were discussing.

"That dark elf wants to go on ahead, let him. Better than us risking our necks." The bandit who talked was standing with his back towards Fengir, so he couldn't see his face, but the way he stood and the sound of his voice told Fengir all he needed to know. This bandit was older and more experienced than the other bandits he had met so far, which made him the first target when Fengir planned to attack.

"But what if Arvel doesn't come back? I want my share from that claw!" The other bandit was a woman, and a young one at that. Her mannerism told Fengir she was inexperienced and impatient, making her a secondary target. Now knowing for certain that the claw was down there in the ruins, Fengir decided that he had heard enough.

"Just shut it and keep an eye out for trouble."

Drawing his bow, Fengir aimed an arrow at the back of the male bandit. Letting the arrow go, he saw the bandit fall forward as the arrow took him right between the shoulder-blades, piercing his heart. Standing up, he dropped the bow and drew his Akaviri blade as the woman drew her sword and looked around for the source of the arrow which had killed her partner. Spotting Fengir, she screamed in rage and ran towards him with her sword raised above her head. Just standing there, waiting, Fengir didn't attack until she had started her downward swing. Taking a quick step to the side, he brought his blade up in a diagonal strike, taking her hand of her wrist. Staring at her wrist in shock, she didn't notice him taking another step, this time behind her. Twisting his body to maximize the force behind his strike, he brought his blade down on her neck, decapitating her in one swift motion.

Turning away from the twitching corpse, he shook the blood of his blade before sheathing it. Picking up his bow, he continued down into the interiors of Bleak Falls Barrow. He didn't have to descend far, before he heard the sound of footsteps in an upcoming room. Staying in the shadows, he looked into the room and saw a bandit walking around a lever placed on the floor in the middle of the room and a locked gate on the far side. While he watched, the bandit grabbed the lever and pulled it, triggering a trap. Arrows suddenly shot out of the wall next to the gate, hitting the bandit and killing him. Waiting for the arrows to stop, Fengir then stepped out into the room, looking around. He spotted three pictures, one on the floor and two on the far wall. One on the wall and the one on the floor seemed to depict a snake, while the third one looked like a whale of some sort. Looking around, he saw three three-sided pillars at the left wall, each in its own alcove. From left to right they showed; Snake, Whale, Eagle. Touching the pillar which showed an eagle, Fengir was surprised when the pillar turned to the right, changing from eagle to whale. Now knowing what to do, he touched the middle pillar, and watched as it turned from whale to snake. The three pillars now showing the same three images as the pictures did. Pulling the lever, he smiled as the gate opened. Continuing down, he came upon a few skeevers, but a short burst of flames from his hands turned them into charred corpses in seconds. A bit further down, he started to notice large webs in the corners and hanging from the ceiling. He must be close to the lair of a Frostbite Spider. Using fire-magic to burn away some of the webbing, he suddenly heard a voice.

"Is... is someone coming? Is that you Harknir? Bjorn? Soling?"

The voice was coming from a room filled with spiderweb, most likely the main lair of the spider. Drawing his blade, he stepped into the room, looking around. On the far side he could see a dark elf, trapped in the spiders net. Taking a step closer to the Dunmer, he heard a hissing noise. Looking up, he jumped back as a gigantic spider fell from the ceiling, landing in the middle of the room. Turning its eyes towards Fengir, it reared up and attacked. As the spider rushed towards him, Fengir held his blade horizontally on his right and dashed slightly to the left. Using the momentum of the dash, he slashed at the spiders legs, severing all four legs on its right side before it could react to his speed. As the spider fell to its side, Fengir began gathering his magicka for an expert level destruction spell. The spell, Incinerate, burnt a fist-size hole through the body of the spider, boiling its innards and killing it.

Turning his back on the spider, Fengir approached the Dunmer, who was now relaxing where he hang, as the threat of being eaten had disappeared. As Fengir reached him, he spoke. "You did it. You killed it. Now cut me down before anything else shows up."

"In time, in time. Now tell me, where is the golden claw?"

"The claw? Yes, I know how it works. The claw, the marking, the door in the Hall of Stories, I know how they all fit together. Help me down and I'll show you. You wont believe the power the Nords have hidden there."

"Hmm, now that's interesting... Very well, down you go."

Drawing his sword, Fengir made two quick cuts, severing the strings holding the Dunmer in place. As soon as his feet touched the floor, the Dunmer turned around and bolted the other way, yelling back at Fengir. "You fool! Why should I share the treasure with any one?"

Hearing those words, Fengir barked a short laugh. Fool? If the elf only knew... Sending his mind forward, after the fleeing elf, Fengir woke all of the sleeping draugr in the crypts below. He then walked after the elf, hearing the sounds of battle in the distance. A few rooms down, he found the body of the elf, surrounded by draugr. As he moved closer, the draugr turned towards him and lifted their weapons. Once again using fire-magic, he turned them into piles of ashes, before leaning down and removing the elfs satchel from his body. Reaching in, he withdrew the claw from the satchel, before throwing it away. Looking down on the claw, he saw three pictures carved into its palm. Nodding to himself, he put the claw into his on satchel and continued on.

This part of the dungeon was filled with traps and draugr, but he easily killed the undead Nords and avoided the traps. He soon left the man-made parts of Bleak Falls Barrow, entering into the natural cave system the barrow had been built around. Following the caves, he came upon a corridor with carvings on the walls and a large door in the other end. As he came closer to the door, he saw a circular locking-mechanism sealing it shut. It was three rings, each with a picture of an animal on it, and in the middle was a circular plate with four holes in it, three at the top and one at the bottom. Taking out the claw, he looked on the carvings in its palm, before arranging the rings so that they matched the carvings on the claw. He then pushed the 'fingers' of the claw into the holes on the central piece, forcing the plate inwards, before turning it to the right. This caused the rings to move until they all showed the same animal, and the door to open. Moving forward, he soon came to a large cave. In the cave there was a sarcophagus placed in front of a wall, formed in a half-circle, the head of a dragon carved into it. Below the carvings of the dragon, there was some sort of scrip carved into the wall. As Fengir approached, one of the words on the wall started to glow. Moving closer, he could feel some sort of force leaving the wall, and entering him. For a short moment a word filled his mind, dancing in front of his eyes.

 **Fus**

" _Fus"_ As soon as he spoke the word, he heard the sound of stone grinding against stone. Turning around he saw the lid of the sarcophagus being pushed aside, as a higher undead left it. The Draugr Overlord turned its dead eyes towards Fengir, and raised its battleaxe, determined to destroy the one who had disturbed its slumber. But it had only time for one step, before Fengirs magic hit it in the chest, throwing it across the cave and crushing its head as it hit the opposite wall.

Taking a step towards the sarcophagus before looking down into it, Fengir saw a stone tablet on the bottom if the sarcophagus. Picking it up, he saw what appeared to be a map of Skyrim, carved into it, with strange markings dotting the face of the map. Shrugging, he put it next to the claw, before starting to look for an exit. After a while, he found a hidden exit, which led to a cave on the north side of the mountain. As Riverwood was on the eastern side, he started to walk eastwards, humming to himself as he watched the sky getting brighter, as the sun slowly rose over the horizon. After about four hours of walk, he reached Riverwood. Knowing that the trader wasn't open yet, he went to the local inn. The sign outside the inn depicted a giant, resting on the ground. Opening the door, he went inside.

As he entered, a woman looked up from behind the counter and greeted him. "Welcome to the Sleeping Giant Inn, what do you need?"

Sitting down at the counter, Fengir ordered some mead and cheese. As he ate, he noticed that the woman was staring at him.

"What? Do I have slaughterfish stuck in my teeth? Why are you staring?"

"Sorry, it's just... your sword..."

"Hmm? Oh, right. I guess an Akaviri Blade isn't something you see everyday, now that the Akavir are extinct, and it's only the Blades that are using them. Maybe I should have taken another sword... Bah! Doesn't matter! More cheese!"

At the mentioning of the Blades, the woman had turned pale, but didn't hesitate as she went and got more cheese. While he sat there and ate, Fengir noticed that the woman was looking at him from time to time with a scowl on her face. When enough time had passed, he left the inn and went over to the trader. As he entered, both the man and the young woman looked at him. Walking over to the counter, he pulled out the claw and put it down on top of it. The man looked at it in wonder.

"You... you found it? Ha ha ha! There it is! Strange... it almost seem smaller than I remember. Funny thing, huh? I'm gonna put this back where it belongs. I'll never forget this. You have done a great thing for me and my sister." Smiling, the man handed over a pouch of gold to Fengir. Saying goodbye to the siblings, Fengir left the trader.

Setting out again, this time for Whiterun, Fengir left Riverwood and followed the road down from the mountain towards the plains. After about an hour, he came to a crossroad. Taking the right road, he would end up past the Throat of the World, in either Ivarstead, Riften or Windhelm. The left would take him to Whiterun, or, if continuing on, to Rorikstead or Falkreath. Turning left, he continued down the road, past a meadery and towards a farm. When he came closer to the farm, he saw a group of warriors fighting an angry giant. Readying his bow, he slowly took aim at the giant, and as it began lifting its club for an overhand smash, he let the arrow fly. As the giants club reached its highest point, the arrow struck the hand holding it, causing it to drop the club. Another arrow then hit it in the back of the knee, forcing the giant to the ground. As the warriors began stabbing it in the chest with their weapons, a third arrow hit the giant in the temple, killing it instantly.

Lowering the bow, Fengir walked up to the warriors, which was gathered around the giants corpse. Hearing his approach, one of the warriors turned around, causing Fengir to almost stop in his tracks. This warrior was a female, and a quite good-looking one at that. While not exactly Fengirs type, her armour didn't leave much to the imagination, giving him quite a good view of her finely sculptured legs and her cleavage... Fengir shook the thoughts from his head as she began to speak.

"That was some good shooting. You could make for a decent Shield-Brother."

"Shield-Brother? Ah, you are the Companions, I take it?"

The woman smiled. "Yes, we belong to the Companions. I take it you have heard about us before?"

"Well, I used to live in Whiterun as a child, and I sometimes dreamed of joining the Companions, but some events made that impossible at the time."

"Then why not join now? We could use a man with your skill."

"Maybe I'll do that, Maybe I'll do... By the way, the name's Fengir. Who are you?"

"I'm Aela, and these" she nods towards the two men standing next to her. "These are the twins, Vilkas and Farkas. If you decide to join, you can find us in Jorrvaskr."

Nodding, Fengir said farewell, to the three Companions, and left for Whiterun. Walking on the well-known path towards the main gates, he remembered the last time he traveled this path, 205 years earlier, when the guards had dragged him out of Whiterun to be hanged on the order of the Jarl. Approaching the gate, he was hailed by a guard, telling him that the city was closed, until the dragon business was taken care off. Telling the guard he came from Riverwood because of said business, he was let into the city.

 **And so the chapter ends, for now. I hope you who reads this enjoy the story, and if you have any question based on the story, please ask them as a review, and I'll answer as many as possible in the beginning of the next chapter.**


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